


One Week

by TimeTurner



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Consensual spanking, F/M, a very very thin plot, professor/student
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-17 01:29:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11841153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeTurner/pseuds/TimeTurner
Summary: Just one week before prom, Sansa is tired of waiting on Petyr to change his mind about the nature of their relationship.However, as the great teacher he is, Petyr is more than willing to teach her a lession.





	One Week

**Author's Note:**

> There may be a day when I don't feel nervous about sharing the ways of my crazy mind, but today is not that day. 
> 
> I apologize in advance for any mistakes I might have made. Go easy on me haha'
> 
> I hope you enjoy, feel free to tell me what you think, even if it sucks :)

“Petyr, please.” she begged for the millionth time, perched upon his lap, her hands traveling to play with his dark hair and the silver that covered his temples. Her breath laboured and her voice on the verge of breaking. She felt she could not take it anymore. They had been in this situation for months, already, and neither of them seemed willing to give it up.  
“You know I can’t, sweetling.” He answered, his voice not much more in control than hers. “We need to be patient. Just for one more week.” He said, his lips descending to suck on a pulse point on the base of her neck. She let out a moan that turned into a complain.  
“I am so tired of being patient, Petyr. I was patient for months, now I just want you. Please!” she murmured prolonging the vowels of her request.  
“You're being greedy, Sansa. C'mon, you’ve been such a good girl lately, I'm sure you're not gonna spoil your perfect marks now. Not when graduation is so fucking close.” He teased her, his right hand travelling up her thigh, reaching under her pleated skirt to touch naked skin.  
“No, sir.” She gasped. “I wouldn't waste all the lessons you gave me.” She teased him back, moving in his lap in order to straddle him. She pressed her covered sex against him, moaning at the slight friction.  
He couldn't believe his luck. Months ago, he would never have believed that someday he would have her like this. She was the epitome of the perfect student, good grades, humble attitude. He started flirting with her just because, until she started answering, instigating, asking for more. Now, here she was, grinding on his hard cock through the fabric of their clothes, her uniform completely untidy, begging him to trespass the only limit he had settled for their… thing. He was not going to fuck her. Not while she was still his student, at least. He captured her mouth in a violent, needy kiss. She matched his movements eagerly, once again running her fingers through his soft dark hair. His hands cupped her ass, squeezing her cheeks and parting them, his fingertips closer and closer to the wet heat between her thighs. While they devoured each other, the bell rang, signalizing the official end of the school year.  
Her hands ran to his fly, and she started massaging his erection while fighting to open his zipper.  
“Did you hear that, Professor Baelish?” She murmured.  
He had to hold back a groan to hear her. “What, sweetling?” He gasped, her hands now reaching inside his boxers to touch the hot flesh of his cock.  
“You're not my teacher anymore.” She whispered on his ear, taking the chance to nib on his earlobe.  
“So it would seem” he chuckled parting her legs and watching her shiver when his skilled fingers reached her inner thighs and pushed her lacy white panties aside.  
“Do you know what that means?” She asked, running his length slowly with her hand.  
“That my life will be extremely easier next year without a naughty redhead distracting me during my lessons?” He teased, his fingers running lightly over her drenched slit. She squeezed him a little harder, which made him hiss in response.  
“No,” she answered “it means that now you really really should fuck me.” His movements stopped all together.  
“Sansa. I thought I had taught you not to question me. I told you. Not until the fucking prom.” His tone scared her, and she removed her hands from him. “I-I’m sorry, Petyr. Sir.” She stuttered, eyes fixed on his expression. Then, his posture changed slightly. She saw an well known sadistic gleam running in his grey green eyes, his hand on his chin as he was caught in deep thought. He smirked for a second, then returned to his neutral facade.  
“Don't you think I need to punish you, sweetling? For disrespecting your superior?” His tone was low, a mixture of lust and anger. She felt her own desire growing again, even if she was a bit uncertain.  
“I believe you know what's best for me, Sir.” She replied sweetly, assuming the humble position she knew to work better on him in situations like this.  
“Good. You know what to do.” They had played this before, when Sansa was purposely less than perfect on her essays. She positioned herself on her stomach over his lap, as many times before. He pulled ger skirt above her waist and removed her underwear, pocketing the piece immediately.  
“Seven, I believe. One for each day between now and prom.” He informed. “Count them out.”  
“Yes, sir.” Before her agreement had fully left her lips, his hand had smacked against her soft skin, an obscene sound filling the empty classroom. She moaned, her sex instinctively grinding against his erection, nested on her thigh. The spanking continued and, by the time Petyr reached seven, they were both panting.  
“You're a good girl, sweetling.” He complimented her, smoothing his fingers over the now red flesh of her perfect ass and helping her seat.  
“Thank you, Mr Baelish.” She smiled, the true face of innocence. Only a lustful glint in her eyes telling different. He captured her lips in his once more, feeling his body begging for release. Sansa was likely feeling the same, for she was riding the length of his cock, moaning and panting with every move. His hips started matching her tempo, and for a second he thought how easy it would be to angle his cock so he was finally inside of her. Oh, wouldn't she love that? So would he, but he was not a man to break his word. He pushed her body a bit so he could press a hand against her sex. She protested for a second, but moaned when his skilled fingers encircled her clit. Her right hand started pumping up and down on his engorged member, her left holding on his shoulder to keep her balance.  
She was close, he could feel on the tips of his fingers, on the way her movements on his cock got a little sloppy and the press on his shoulder grew.  
“Cum for me, Sansa.” He commanded on her ear. And so she did. His mouth covered hers, swallowing any sound that could implicate them on the almost desert school. When she came down from her peak, she resumed her movements on him with renewed vigour. Soon enough, he was bucking his hips against her hand, closer and closer to his own orgasm. She noticed and pressed him just the right way to push him over the edge. He came grunting her name, his seed falling over the naked flesh of her thighs.  
They stayed there for a moment, tired and satisfied, then he helped her clean the mess they had made. Looking at the clock on the classroom wall, she said. “I should be going. Mom is gonna kill me if I'm not home by four.”  
He only nodded. He would gladly take her home, but he knew better. She collected her things and walked towards the door, ready to leave.  
“Bye.” She said in a small voice, her hand on the doorknob. Then, on an afterthought, she added. “Will I be seeing you in prom?”  
He looked at her, his familiar smirk taking over his face.  
“Of course, sweetling. I'm waiting anxiously for it.” She felt her body temperature rising once again.  
“I'll see you there, then.” She smiled again.  
“See you at the prom, Sansa.” He replied, eyeing her mischievously.  
One week. Sansa was sure she could wait one more week. She left the school with a grin on her face that matched his.


End file.
